


The Halloween Party

by bearsofair, ellethom, GumTree, ikkiM, justme (silver_spring), QuizzicalQuinnia, WackyGoofball



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, JBO Round Robin Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:25:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearsofair/pseuds/bearsofair, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GumTree/pseuds/GumTree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_spring/pseuds/justme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/pseuds/QuizzicalQuinnia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WackyGoofball/pseuds/WackyGoofball
Summary: This is a round robin from a couple of years ago that had not yet been posted. I hope to post a chapter or so each day. This one was started by the wonder Erin.





	1. Chapter 1

“Just come on, Brienne. It’ll be fun!” said Sansa tugging on Brienne’s sleeve, steering her towards the Halloween surplus store. “You haven’t been to a party with us in ages!”

“But, it’s a costume party!” protested Brienne. “Halloween’s has never really been my thing. I usually sit at home with my porch lights turned off, while I pig out on candy, and hope no one TPs my yard.”

“Right,” said Margaery with a smirk. “But you’ve never been to one one of Renly’s Halloween parties. He always goes all out and basically turns his mansion of a house into a _haunted_ house. You won’t want to miss it!”

“I’m completely content with missing,” argued Brienne “I wouldn’t even know what to wear!”

“Well, we’re just about to remedy that little problem,” said Sansa as she gave Brienne a final push through the store’s automatic doors.

Brienne blinked in the sprawling darkened warehouse of a store, suddenly overwhelmed with everything Halloween. Strobe lights were blinking brightly causing a eerie flickering effect, the air was murky with puffs of fog rolling out of a fog machine, and an electronic skeleton prop cackled at her as she took a step forward, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

“Seven hells!” she muttered as she recovered from her adrenaline rush.

“Relax!” said Margaery. “I hope you won’t be this jumpy at the party.”

“I don’t like surprises,” said Brienne seriously. Margaery just laughed and pushed her towards the costume racks.

“What exactly are we looking for?” asked Brienne hesitantly as Sansa and Brienne ransacked the displays, piling costume after costume into her outstretched arms.

“We don’t know yet. But I’m sure we’ll know it when we see it,” laughed Sansa. Brienne didn’t like the sound of that.

When Brienne could carry no more, Margaery and Sansa steered her towards the dressing room, pulled back the curtain for her, and shoved her inside.

“Start trying them on!” shouted Margary through the curtain. “We’ll see what else we can find in the meantime!”

“No, really!” Brienne shouted back, “This is more than enough. No more!” she pleaded, but she could already hear Sansa and Margaery giggling as they retreated back to the sales floor.

Brienne sighed and turned her attention to the pile of costumes sitting on the floor. She glanced at the models on the front of each package, each one looking gorgeous and confident in whatever ridiculous thing they were wearing. That wasn’t her at all. Not with tall, freckled, lanky body.

She shuffled the packages around to get a better look. Sexy nurse. Sexy cheerleader. Sexy witch. Why did they have to be _sexy_ . She’d feel much more comfortable in costume that hid her entire body. But she figured she should try _something_ on before Sansa and Margaery and returned with anything worse. She settled on the sexy pirate costume. At least she could have a sword. That would be cool.

She slipped the costume over her ungainly body, already uncomfortable with how revealing it seemed, and picked up the foam sword that went along with it. She was just turning to look at herself in the mirror when the curtain to the dressing room was pulled back in one swift motion, startling her. She whirled around and ridiculously pointed her foam sword at the intruder. She came face to face with a gorgeous golden haired man with laughing green eyes, and a smile that cut like a knife.

“Whoa, easy there,” said the smirking man, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “Didn’t realize this room was taken.” She could feel his eyes traveling up and down her body, taking in her sexy pirate costume. “Relax…wench,” he said before turning on his his heels and stalking off.

Brienne lowered her sword, still reeling with embarrassment when she heard giggling coming from the other direction. There stood Margaery and Sansa, arms full of several more costume options. They had seen the whole exchange. But they just looked at each other and then back at her. “I think,” said Sansa, “That you’ve already found your costume.”


	2. Chapter 2

Though Brienne was grateful she wouldn't have to try on any more costumes, she couldn't quite share Margaery's and Sansa's enthusiasm over the pirate outfit. No, not just any pirate, a sexy pirate. What was sexy about pirates anyway? A hook and peg leg? Scurvy? An eye patch?

The only thing she remotely liked about her costume was the foam sword; the rest she could've done without. An gypsy blouse that was emphasizing her broad shoulders, a corset to emphasize her quasi non-existent breasts and a short skirt to emphasize her strapping legs. Sansa wanted to talk her into getting high heeled over-the-knee boots, but that was where Brienne drew the line. Why spend that kind of money on a pair of shoes she'd never wear again? For a party she was reluctant to attend in the first place? They compromised on fishnet stockings and her old black Doc Martens. However, with Brienne's veto having been used on the boots, Sansa insisted on some makeup and so, after leaving the store they drove to Margaery's place to get ready as a team. That's where she saw the other girls costumes for the first time too. Margaery was dressing up as a good witch, and Sansa as a princess. A sexy witch and princess, of course. With a crapton of glitter. For a moment, Brienne regretted not having spent more time at the costume shop. She would've liked to find out if there was something like a sexy pizza or sexy zombie costume and what those looked like.

She made sure to let both of the others take their sweet time getting ready; she had been friends with them long enough to know how they could lose time when it came to getting their eyeliner perfect or their hair just right. So when the moment came for Brienne to get made over, they were actually already running late and she got away with just some mascara and red lipstick.

Since her low tolerance for anything alcohol made her the designated driver, they crammed into Brienne's car and drove off to the Baratheon mansion. The party seemed already in full swing; Renly's long driveway was like a maze of parked cars. The bass from the music inside was so strong it made her car windows rattle and the flickering lights made it look as if the night were illuminated by a colorful lightning storm. People were standing around, every one of them clutching a drink in one hand. There were at least a handful of those smoke machines placed around the front of the mansion, for that stuff was wafting all around the entrance. It was completely and utterly over the top, but on second thought, larger than life was probably  just the right size for Renly.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Sansa gushed.

"Well, that's one word for it." Brienne mumbled. They hadn't even gotten out of the car yet and already she felt absolutely out of place. She longed for her sweatpants, a big bowl of candy and an uneventful evening in front of the tv more than ever.

"Oooh..over there's a parking spot! See it? To the right?"

Brienne slowly drove up about fifty yards, checked her mirrors, gave a turning signal and just when she was about to begin parking, a flashy red sports car in front of her shifted into reverse and smoothly stole the parking space.

"What the---this was ours! I signalled!" she exclaimed.

"Must be a total douchebag, I mean, look at the car, that tells you a lot already." Margaery spoke up. "If it's a guy, I'll bet he also has a very small...package."

As if on cue, the door on the driver's side of the red sports car opened and indeed a man stepped out. Brienne's eyes widened as he walked past her headlights. She had seen that face before. Today in the costume store. First the guy had burst into her dressing room and now he'd stolen her parking space. _What_ _an ass_!


	3. Chapter 3

Jaime was absolutely wishing his foam pirate sword was real as he stood in the middle of Renly’s tacky house overstuffed with people.  _ Boring _ people. He wouldn’t be here at all if Tyrion hadn’t insisted. The little shit had decided to go as a dragon rider, only he was mysteriously without a dragon. He kept offering the role to the various ladies at the party. One of them was bound to take him up on the offer. Tyrion went through women the same way Jaime went through socks.

Jaime looked through the strobe lights and fake smoke haze at the giggly brunette trying to talk to him over the blaring music. He couldn’t even remember her name. Taena, Myranda, something like that. She was painfully dull, just like the rest of them. He felt her place her hand on his hip.  _ Fuck. _ He had to get away before she went for the crotch.

He looked around for Tyrion, Renly, fucking Daven, anyone to save him from a public groping when he saw her. Well, strobe light flashes of her. The tall, blonde, ugly she-pirate from the costume store. He shouted to get her attention, “Wench!”

As the lights flashed, she caught his eye, then promptly turned to run. Jaime leaned down to the brunette. “Sorry, my girlfriend just arrived. Catch you later,” he said as he made to follow the blonde. At her height, she wasn’t hard to track, but she was moving fast. Jaime shimmied past outstretched hands offering drinks, shots of silly string and ridiculously carved pumpkins. He saw her slipping out the back door towards the pool.

He ducked around a Qyburnstein making out with a Ghost of Winterfell, past a couple of slithering Sand Snakes and out the sliding glass doors. The wench couldn’t have gotten far.

The pool deck was decorated with hanging pumpkin and skull lights, but no strobes and the blare of the music was muffled. He grabbed his sword and looked around for his prey. For a moment, he thought he’d lost her, but there she was, sitting alone on the diving board, her feet almost dangling in the water. Jaime finished his drink and made his way towards her.

“Thar she blows. It’s the dressing room wench,” he called out to her.

She scrambled to her feet and drew her own foam sword. “What are you doing? Following me?”

“Blimey, yer a tall one.”

He could almost hear her eyes rolling. She moved to stand in the middle of the dive stand. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Jaime made his way to the base of the board, effectively blocking her escape. He pointed his sword at her. “Arr…I’ve come to steal your booty.”

She extended her own sword and tapped it against his. “Get out of my way.”

He grinned. “I think not.” He used his foam blade to push her sword to the side. “I think a wench like you needs to walk the plank.”

She moved with a grace unexpected for a woman her size and was suddenly  _ en-garde _ . She pointed her sword directly at him. “I said, get out of my way.”

He moved into first position and attacked. She parried and lunged, landing a direct and squishy hit on his shoulder. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled as he jumped on to the diving board. He struck a blow to her flat chest. She whirled and landed a thuddy blow to his ribcage. He threw his head back and laughed. He hadn’t had this much fun in years.

He advanced and she seemed to retreat before quickly lunging forward to poke him in the stomach. With a grin he rushed her, wrapping both arms around her waist, propelling them both off the diving board and into the pool.

graphic by Lena G


	4. Chapter 4

Brienne bobbed up like an oversized cork in the water shuddering, unsure if it was from rage or the late October chill. She paddled about in a tight circle, trying to catch sight of the madman that attacked her andreminded herself that just because he was ridiculously good-looking did not mean that he wasn’t deranged. Mindful of her waterlogged boots, she swam to the side of the huge pool, deep enough that even her legs couldn’t reach the bottom. There she panted and cursed that she had ever toyed with the man, instead of just shoving him out of the way as he’d done her. Except he hadn’t. They’d sparred together, and he’d been quite good. She’d almost been enjoying herself when the moon had caught a glint of his white teeth in a smile before he tackled her. Well, not just that but wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her close to his burning form as they plummeted to the water below. Brienne cursed, knowing the music was too loud for anyone to have heard them or care.

The backyard was mostly lit but the pool lights were off, casting dark shadows about and obscuring the depths of the pool. A ridiculous inflatable whale slowly bobbed by but Brienne could see no other movement. _Davy Jones’ locker would serve him right_ , she thought, then after a minute considered whether or not to be worried. The unnamed man, scourge of the pool, that... _Goldenbeard_ had been wearing what looked to be a more expensive costume, larger boots, more material. She couldn’t remember how hard she’d shoved him underwater but surely this was too long. Her scream was cut short when hands that were too familiar shot from the surface of the water like hands from the grave and pulled her back under. When Brienne emerged again the bastard had breath enough to laugh at her. Foam swords floating somewhere in the distance, he swam close to where she had been clinging poolside and extended his hand. “I’m sorry,” he offered insincerely, still chuckling.

“That was a dirty move,” Brienne hissed. Without her sword to bludgeon him, she decided to take her chances in the shallows to extract herself from the mess that he had caused.

“Dirty? You haven’t seen – I’m a pirate! Wait, where are you going!”

Jaime watched the long-legged pirate-wench swim away into shadow with even more of that surprising grace she had used to fight him. He wasn’t sure what about her was so exhilarating but the night was still young and he knew he could prove himself both the better fighter and the better swimmer. He doubled his efforts to see her stop a few feet short of the shallow end.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Brienne yelled, watching her golden pirate approach. Jaime clumsily waded the last few steps under her dark gaze with what he hoped was either a winning or most annoying smile, only to have it falter when he got a good look at her. She stood, dripping defiantly before him, the cheap material of her tattered skirt floating indecently high along those long legs, the thin white material of her blouse now clinging and revealing curves that, though slight, were definitely there. Her hands were clenched at her side, ready for a fight, instead of protecting her most wenchly assets from his devious view. Jaime licked his lips and if not for the heavy, now extraordinarily uncomfortable material of his pants, might have worried about concealing his own reaction to everything that he could see. Her full painted lips scowled at him, chin upheld proudly, and Jaime couldn’t help himself, gesturing to her not-so-ample bosom. “Wet _and_ cold, wench? Did I--“

Jaime crashed backward into the midnight waters below, the wench having tackled him low. They tussled about, swordless in the water, neither one seeming to gain the upper hand until Brienne was able to dunk Jaime’s head once, twice, under the water – knowing she couldn’t truly drown him but her boiling blood screamed at her that it couldn’t hurt to pretend for a moment.


	5. Chapter 5

After the fourth dunk Brienne let go of his head and pirate guy came up gasping for air.

"Parley!" he spluttered

"What?" she replied, eyebrows rising.

"I'm invoking the right of parley! It was in  _ Pirates of the Summer Sea _ ? It means you have to--"

Brienne rolled her eyes.

"I know what parley means. What I don't know is why you're under the impression I want to talk to you after everything you've done." she said, wading over to the shallow end of the pool, pirate guy following her.

"Whoa.. _ everything _ I've done? I've hardly done anything."

"The dressing room? The parking space? The throwing-me-in-the-water?"

"I apologized for the dressing room. I have no idea what you mean with parking space. And I'd say you've gotten your revenge for throwing you in the water by almost drowning me!"

Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Please! You were underwater less than 30 seconds, if you can't hold your breath for that long, a pirate's life is clearly not for you. Landlubber."

No reaction from the soaking wet pirate. His eyes seemed focused on her middle. Brienne looked down at herself and realized the whole water fight had made her blouse see-through.

"Hey!" she cried, raising her folded arms higher to cover herself. That seemed to snap him out of his trance.

"Huh? What?"

"Stop staring at me!"

"Sorry." He replied in a tone that strongly implied that he was anything but sorry. And if the tone didn't give that fact away, the smirk on his face surely did.

"Parley's over." Brienne decided and turned away, looking for the pool ladder. A hand on her elbow stopped her from getting very far, though.

"Wait! I think we went about this all wrong. Hi. I'm Jaime."

He outstretched his hand, waiting for her to shake it. After a moment's hesitation, she did.

"Brienne."

"So..parley means we should negotiate peace, right? How about you promise to not try drowning me anymore and I--"

"I did NOT drown you!"

"Well, my life was flashing before my eyes. But just between the two of us, it was kinda underwhelming as far as best-of sequences go. There wasn't even a power rock soundtrack.."

Brienne narrowed her eyes. Perhaps those 30 seconds had been already long enough to deprive his brain of oxygen?

"...and the prospect of being the first in my family to drown in a pool which is technically just a giant bathtub.."

"Has anyone ever told you that you babble a lot?"

"Well, that didn't specifically come up in the montage of my life, but my brain was focusing on showing me nice things. You know, birthdays, christmas..that one time I dressed our dog up as a dragon and let my baby brother ride him.."

Brienne couldn't help it and chuckled. Then she shivered. Jaime's grin slipped a little.

"You cold?"

"It's october and we're standing in a pool. A heated pool, but still. So..yeah."

"Let's get out of here and dry off then. The night is still young. We can raid Renly's wardrobe and check out the haunted part of the mansion. Sound good?"

"Okay."

Together they walked over to the pool ladder and Brienne began to climb out.

"Wait!" Jaime said, turning back around and wading over to where the foam swords were floating. He grabbed them and handed Brienne hers back.

"We better take those with us. Our host said that he's outdone himself this year making his house spooky."

"Plastic skeletons and rubber spiders? I'm shaking in my soaked boots."

"You never know, wench, you never know. Anything could happen.."


	6. Chapter 6

Jaime couldn’t hide his excitement at the fact that Brienne’s hopes of finding herself something less _revealing_ to wear were crushed once they started to dig through Renly’s wardrobe, which they had miraculously reached without anyone calling them upon soaking the expensive mosaic parquet.

Obviously, Jaime had to help a bit, by snatching the next best costume (seemingly Renly feared that none of his guests would stick to dress code) that Brienne may have chosen for herself. It was a man’s costume that any stripper would have worn for his show, a police officer, though it gladly came without button-up trousers to rip off in one mighty strike.

Lucky him that the wench decided to hide in the bathroom as she toweled and undressed, so Jaime had enough time to pick his costume before she could call shots.

That had left Brienne with no other choice but the one other costume fitting– a bad replica of the _Beauty_ _and the Beast_ dress, just that… pretty much the entire skirt was missing, replaced by a tutu that left about as much to the imagination as the pirate dress had done, which Jaime appreciated _a whole lot_.

“So,  _ Princess _ , ready to head out?”

“I hate you for this.”

“What? Should  _ I _ have worn it?”

“Why not?”

“Well, since I rid myself of my underwear, that dress may have been a bit too revealing  _ even _ for me.”

“You  _ what _ ?”

Jaime just shrugged at her. “I don’t want to let my buddies get hypothermic.”

Brienne turned her head away, blushing furiously. Jaime chuckled, amused.

“So yeah, you’ll have to stick to the outfit, Princess.”

“ _Warrior_ Princess,” Brienne corrected him as she holstered the foam sword around her thick waist with the  cheap leather belt from her old outfit.

“Ha, I quite like that!” Jaime grinned, doing the same with his foam sword. “Then we should head out. I still need a good scare.”

“I repeat it, we’ll only see plastic skeletons and rubber spiders. The scariest thing that could happen is that someone sees me in that dress and takes a picture,” Brienne huffed.

“I hoped that we would find ourselves a photo booth to make that moment last forever?”

“ _ No _ way.”

“Pity.”

He ushered her out of the room with a smile. Gladly, the faux wooden signs covered in fake cobwebs pointing the directions led them to the spooky part of the house soon enough. And indeed, plastic skeletons and rubber spiders paved their way as screams and shouts came over loudspeakers and green light shone down on them.

“Oh, look at that,” Jaime said, pointing at the sign ahead of them. “Is this the  _ dark room _ for the  _ fun _ times?”

“ _ The Path to Perdition _ ,” Brienne read aloud. “Dramatic.”

Jaime opened the door, pleasantly surprised that it was indeed an all dark corridor – perfect for some  _ accidental  _ touches. Jaime pulled her along by the wrist, to her surprise.

“Hey,” she protested, but Jaime smiled at her before emerging into the darkness. “Wouldn’t want to lose my Warrior Princess down the  _ Path of Perdition _ .”

Brienne groaned, the door shutting behind them with a thud. She simply let Jaime take the lead, not really minding him miming the hero protecting the maiden.

Because that was utterly ridiculous – and Brienne was certain that this was nothing serious for him  _ at all _ , a jest with  _ foam swords _ .

“I hoped there’d be something more interesting than walking through the dark,” Jaime commented, rounding another corner of the dark maze.

He screamed when someone to his left suddenly grabbed him and pulled him that direction. Jaime let go of Brienne out of reflex as he got hugged by someone mimicking a slimy swamp monster or so.

Jaime heard Brienne shout and tumbling to the ground, seemingly having been thrown off balance by him.

“Hey!” he called out to the…  _ monster _ .

“Brienne, are you alright? Where’s the damn switch,” he growled.

“Shit,” he heard the monster call out, the voice familiar. The monster reached behind itself to switch on a small light. Jaime searched for Brienne, only to see that this corridor was actually  **very scary** .

His Warrior Princess was in the filthy hands of a smiling, gingerbearded Neanderthal.


	7. Chapter 7

Jaime could feel heat expelled from his nostrils as he snorted like an angry bull.

The disgusting ginger wanker had his arms around Brienne, squeezing her so she couldn't break the hold. The idiot guffawed as he lifted Brienne clear off her feet and swung her around.

"Get your paws off her! The wench is mine!" Jaime stepped forward with his foam sword extended in front of him. He realized how ridiculous that was too late.

Brienne twisted her head to glare at him, and before Jaime could reach the monster, she swung her legs up to push off the wall, the force so great that the monster stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet. Brienne fell backwards on top of him. Jaime reached out one hand, but she ignored it and kicked the wanker in the side.

"No one touches me like that!" she shouted at the monster whose body lay in a pile on the parquet. "No one!"

A door on one wall opened just a crack, and short person wearing a disturbing mask that looked like someone else's face had been stolen for the disguise popped his or her head out. "Yes?" the girl asked, and it was definitely a girl judging by the high tone of the voice.

The monster groaned. The two-faced girl sighed. "Stupid," she mumbled before shutting the door and disappearing.

Brienne stared at the door, then at the monster's moaning body, then at Jaime.

He looked at her thighs. The strength in them, when she'd pushed against the wall....that was  _ intriguing _ .

"What?" she grumbled.

He looked up at her sneering mouth. "I'm impressed," he said with a smirk.

"Because I can defend myself?"

"Not at all. Because your...moves, are...advanced?" he didn't quite know why he was stumbling so much in his responses.

"Black belt," she mumbled, looking back at the monster's body.

"In what?" Jaime glanced around the hall, spotting just what he needed.

"Pick," she said.

Jaime pointed to his newfound object a few doors down. "What do you think?" he nodded toward the monster.

She scanned the object, and Jaime watched as comprehension transformed her features from a snarling mess of still-damp rage into something  _ almost _ happy. "That will do nicely," she said.

Jaime squatted down and peered at the monster. "Be a good little wanker and make this easy, hmm?"

The monster started to object, as expected, so Jaime ripped the collar off his fake uniform and stuffed it in the monster's mouth. He picked up the monster's legs, gesturing for Brienne to grab his arms. There was a struggle, the monster bashing about like a drunkard, and Jaime chuckling along with Brienne as they carried the body down the hall.

"Ready?" Jaime asked.

"Absolutely," she said.

Together, they swung the body into the object, a fake vampyre coffin on a table. It was lined with velvet, so really...quite a nice prison if Jaime said so himself.

He slapped his hands together. "There. Excellent."

Brienne nodded, then glanced at him. "Think he'll be able to breathe if we close the lid?"

Jaime examined the coffin, noticing all the holes in the lacquered wood. "Definitely."

Without waiting, Brienne slammed the lid shut and used the handy gold pin on a chain to lock it. "No more groping."

Jaime couldn't help himself. "Well, not by him."

"What?" She drew her brows together and peered at him suspiciously.

The coffin jiggled on the table from the thrashing wanker within.

"Nothing," Jaime said. "Come, wench. There's more to explore!"

She did not take his hand, marching on ahead of him. He did not mind the view.


	8. Chapter 8

Brienne opened the door to the next room and entered, Jaime right behind her. She groaned. The entire room was made of mirrors. And not just mirrors. Funhouse mirrors. The moment Jaime pulled the door shut behind them, the lights began flickering. On for a moment, then pitch black, then strobing, in no definite pattern. The effect was more than disorienting. Mirrors and the dark. There was nothing worse.

She felt Jaime grab her by the waist. The lights went on. She looked at their reflection, her legs extended to a ridiculous length, torso scrunched and head widened to a frightening degree. She was grotesque, yet Jaime was still gorgeous. The bastard.

They were pitched into darkness again and he moved closer. She tried to move away and he clung to her.

“Open the door and let’s get out of here,” she growled. She couldn’t see and was beginning to feel as if she couldn’t breathe.

“Uh…” he began, “there doesn’t seem to be a door handle.”

She shouldered past him when the lights came on and began to strobe, revealing image after image of her hideous form. She ran her hands along the mirror which should have been the door through which they entered. He was right. There was no handle.

“Okay,” she nodded, trying to look only at the real Jaime and not at any of the reflections, “we just have to find the exit then.” The lights stopped flashing.

She looked around, trying to find an abnormality in the room of mirrors. She took two steps to the center of the room, Jaime’s arm still firmly around her waist. It went pitch black again. She heard herself panting.

“Right, so, I have a plan,” Jaime’s voice was hot on her neck. “We press ourselves against the wall and make a full circuit around the room until we find a handle.”

The lights began strobing again. She nodded. It  _ was _ a good plan. Jaime pulled her towards a wall, but she stumbled, falling against him.

“I’ve got you wench,” he laughed.

She pushed away from him and was once again plunged into darkness. It was all too much. “Jaime,” she called out waving her hands in the utter darkness. She  _ hated _ the dark.

She felt his hand knock against her forearm before his hand grasped her. “Don’t let go this time,” he ordered. She nodded, though he wouldn’t be able to see. They took slow, tentative steps. “Brienne, I’m touching the wall with my other hand. It’s probably about foot and a half in front of me, so about three feet from you. I’m going to pull you in.”

She voiced her agreement and in a moment, was her back was pressed fully against the wall. The lights came on and Jaime positioned himself on the wall beside her. He began inching them across the wall.

Strobe, darkness, light.

“Corner,” he instructed her. The moved together with ease. His presence reassuring whenever it went dark. They’d made a circuit of two- third of the room when he called out, “Got it!” She saw him reach for the handle, for freedom, when it all went black again. She felt herself starting to panic. She clutched at him.

He pulled her to him. “It’s all right. I’ve got you. The handle is tricky. I need the lights to go on before I can open it.” She nodded into his neck. She could do this. It was just the dark. She waited for what seemed an eternity, his hand rubbing up and down her back, soothing. She felt herself melting into him. He was warm and safe and smelled of aftershave and chlorine.

The lights went on again and she pulled back. He chuckled and turned from her. “And voila!” He opened the door.

Brienne escaped into the dimly lit corridor, catching fake cobwebs in her hair. Jaime followed her and shut the door. She took a deep breath.

“You all right there wench? Need to cling to me a little more? I’ll be the big strong man here to protect you.”

She ground her teeth. “I do not need you to protect me.”

He smirked. “Of course not. It’s not dark anymore. “

“Shut up,” she ground out furious that he’d picked up on her fear. She stomped down the corridor, Jaime right behind, and turned down the next hallway.

She heard a small  _ eep _ behind her. She looked back at Jaime. His face had gone white. She looked again down the new hallway. They were about to walk through a gauntlet of clowns.


	9. Chapter 9

“Now don’t tell me that a grown man is afraid of clowns," Brienne groaned, looking at the distressed (yet still too hot-looking) man behind her.

“Well, you tell me why you are afraid of mirrors?”

Brienne pursed her lips.

Truth be told, she was not particularly scared of mirrors (how ridiculous would that be), but years of standing in front of the looking glass back on Tarth to assess all of her ugly features, as her Septa had told her to do to remind herself of who she is and what others would always see in her – so to not be under the illusion that a guy would come to care about her for matters of her looks, had left a last impression on her. And Brienne hated mirrors transfiguring her already grotesque features even more.

But obviously, that is  _ nothing _ Brienne would share with Jaime. She barely knows the guy!

And anyways, his flirting and teasing was probably owed to Renly’s awful punchbowl, with pumpkin flavor, and being a tease by nature.

No way would he be... into her. The looking glasses taught Brienne.

“Cat’s got your tongue?”

“Well, how about exposure therapy?” Brienne replied, glad to see that he was seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts not to catch her moment of drifting off.

“If you take my hand?” he said with a suggestive grin.

_ Yeah, definitely a natural tease. _

Brienne grumbled something before walking ahead, the faces of green-lit clowns hanging above their heads close enough to almost brush against her head every now and then. Distant laughter echoed from loudspeakers, a fog machine supposed to give more effect.

Brienne’s gaze turned back to Jaime, who was nervously glancing from one grimace to the next as though he was walking through a lion cage.

“Hurry up!” Brienne urged him. “The faster you walk, the shorter the time with the evil clowns.”

“Or just focus on something that doesn’t give you a scare,” she added.

“Easier said than done, wench. Those are…  _ quite _ realistic,” Jaime commented, extending one hand to touch a clown mask. “Ew, that one’s got goo on it.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t touch it?”

Brienne turned back around to maneuver further through the gauntlet. Gladly, she had a better sense of direction now that the mirrors confusing her were gone.

Jaime, meanwhile, trotted after Brienne.

Focus on something that doesn’t give him a scare?

Jaime had a  _ good _ idea once his eyes fixed on the mile-long legs for him to appreciate as Brienne walked ahead of him.

Hopefully there would be some kind of horror-themed  _ bedroom _ soon. Jaime could get used to the idea to help with the undressing this time around, after she had to hide in the bathroom before. Slowly - or maybe more in a rush? Well, the lacing may take some time, though Jaime wasn't sure if there wasn't actually a zipper underneath that yellow, revealing, teasing dress...

Jaime was just about to imagine the scenery in all of its glorious details when something red moved in from his right, a clown with a horrifying grimace. Jaime screamed, edging away out of reflex, only to get entangled in the rubber masks hung up on the walls.

Jaime made a mental note to give Renly hell for hiring the worst extras (or invite such, how would he know?) to do the job of playing monsters around here. He lost count of the bruises this had already earned him. However, the thought was short-lived, when he heard Brienne shout out. He whirled his head around, the clowns and goo still obscuring most of his vision – but he could still see one massive-looking clown with a chainsaw that actually looked real backing Brienne into a corner leading to another part of the gauntlet.

Jaime pushed away from the wall, and against the stupid clown, no longer caring for the discomfort they give him thanks to a birthday experience from his childhood that never quite left him, and bolted around the corner to where he had seen the clown push Brienne to.

But the corridor, which turned out to be an impasse, was…  _ empty _ .

Both were gone mysteriously.

Someone had abducted his wench!

graphic by WackyGoofball


	10. Chapter 10

There had to be a trap door somewhere in the wood-panelled corridor walls. Jaime started pushing against random spots, hoping to find the spot that would open it, but to no avail.

"Brienne!" he yelled. "Wench! Where are you?"

No reaction. At least none from Brienne. His yelling and beating against the wall had managed to attract two of the clowns from the last corridor that were now peeking around the corner.

Jaime however had had it with these fucking bozos. There was a strange mixture of worry over Brienne's whereabouts, anger that someone had dared to steal *his* pirate wench-slash-Princess with a short skirt and annoyance over Renly's messed up ideas about Halloween in him and that mixture was beginning to boil over. So much so that he forgot all about his irrational clown fear, stalked the hallway back down to grab one of the red-wigged bastards by the huge lapels of his jacket, flung him around the corner and slammed him against the wall.

"Ow! What the fuck, man?" Rednose complained.

"Listen up, asshole! You get one chance, one chance only, before I start beating you with your oversized shoe: Where. did. he. take. her?"

"Who?"

"Wrong answer."

Jaime slammed the clown, that strongly smelled of weed, against the wall again. Stonerhead the clown raised his hands in defense.

"Wait! Wait! Dude, please! I just work here. I didn't like..build the house, you know? I didn't even see who took the girl."

"The one of your buddies that looks like the clown version of  _ Dorne Chainsaw Massacre _ ."

"Ramsay? Bro, that is *not* my buddy. He's like totally weird and shit. He takes all of this way too serious. Him and that old dude that plays the mummy- making high priest. I'm just here cause the pay is good, it's easy work and the food's free. Come on, man. Let me go."

Jaime gave him a long, hard look. Either this lame sack was the world's best actor, which he doubted, or he really was telling him the truth. And he didn't like that one bit. He'd seen how well Brienne had defended herself earlier against the neanderthal; but for that guy it had been fun and games. This Ramsay had managed to overpower her and that meant that he was not playing around.

"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration, slamming Smokey McBong against the wall for the third time, just because. There was a clanking sound from further down the hallway. Jaime let go of Druggie the unfunny clown who scrambled off immediately, probably to smoke some more pot, and went to check the noise out. It turned out that all the slamming against the wall had made a candlestick holder on the rear wall come loose and finally fall to the floor. Squinting, Jaime looked at the spot where it had fallen from and lo and behold, there was a button. He quickly pressed it and with a click, the wood panel to his right opened a fraction. Opening it further, he saw that it had been hiding a tunnel, leading who knew where. He couldn't see much, but after a moment, he heard faint laughter coming from the other end.

Jaime drew his foam sword.

"Hold on wench, I'm coming!"

 

 

 

<http://wackygoofball.tumblr.com/post/152312125242/a-video-tribute-to-the-round-robin-a-halloween>

Video Tribute By Wacky.


	11. Chapter 11

Jaime plunged valiantly into the tunnel ahead until the dingy green lighting of the gooey clown room faded into complete darkness. He was forced to slow down before he tripped over gods only knew what, knowing he would be unable to save a warrior princess-wench with a twisted ankle. Jaime reluctantly sheathed his sword so he could feel along the walls of the narrow tunnel; to his disgust they were wet, nearly weeping. He marched on, his ears picking up the faint sound of laughter again, receding, a deranged-sounding man. They had walked the plank together, survived Renly’s ridiculous wardrobe, strobes, mirrors, rabid clowns, he and the stubborn woman that had almost as much patience as his brother, when it came to being his companion. If times weren’t so dire, Jaime could have easily imagined him surrounded by a much different type of wench, several of them in fact.

Alas, there was only one wench for him and he would be damned before he would lose her now. But, surely if a plump plumber could perpetually save his own blonde mushroom princess from the clutches of a fire-breathing dragon in the realm of video games, then Jaime could rescue his capable blonde princess-wench from a couple of clowns on mushrooms – or just one big, nasty chainsaw-wielding clown.

Jaime’s hand slid over a piece of plastic on the wall, a switch! The lighting that flickered on was a scarce improvement over the dark but Jaime could now see, all the same.

“What in the seven hells…”

The tunnel was graffitied like the alleyway behind a XXX show, words in red spray paint of course, reminiscent of blood, nonsense without any clues. ‘ _ SAVE ME BARRY _ ’ dripped in red at one point, along with other nonsensical phrases until the walls were littered with variations of the same phrase over and over. Jaime grit his teeth to read the insanity aloud, “Come and see… Come and see… Come and-- I have your friend, come and see--!” For Jaime, it might as well have been a personal message rather than cheap words for whomever wandered down this part of the haunted house. He broke into a run once more, the sound of his pounding feet canceling out any phantom laughter echoing down the path.

As he was approaching a turn in the tunnel, the crazed clown rounded a corner, a wide grin on his face. He was missing his mask, but the same tattered garb was the same, padded up for bulk, making him almost look like someone with a shrunken head.

"Ramsay." He drew his sword.

“No one else made it so far in the gauntlet,” he said with a laughing smile, something conspicuously hidden behind his back.

Jaime's chest ached for inexplicable reasons, torn between bulldozing the man to demand the whereabouts of his wench and attempting to gut him with foam like a particularly dangerous snake. “A fucking chainsaw, are you—“

“Mad? An evil little bastard? Possibly. But, let’s see… what else did ‘Wench’ call me…?” Ramsay trailed, his grin growing as he pulled Brienne’s foam sword from behind his back with a sickening smile. “En garde.”

Jaime saw red. Red, the color of his anger, exasperation, of Ramsay’s busted nose when foam proved to be no shield against his fist. More than once It was the color of Brienne’s painted lips every time he had missed his chance to -- to what? -- and her blush when he finally heard  _ her _ caught sight of her, waving desperately to get his attention a level below him through a trap door of sorts, standing amid a bed of foam blocks to break a person’s fall.

“Jaime!” she called again, this time louder than Ramsay groaning like a cat in heat on the floor. Jaime shuddered, it was almost like he liked being punched, got off on it. “I think I see a way out!”


	12. Chapter 12

Ramsay was still writhing on the floor, rubbing his bloody hands all over his face and body, grinning and..moaning. Except for a disgusted shudder, Jaime chose to ignore the loony. Grabbing both foam swords, because he was definitely sticking to his earlier thought of  _ you never know _ , he went over to the trap door instead.

"Stand aside, I'm coming down!"

Brienne nodded and Jaime jumped right through the opening in the floor, dropping him down onto Brienne's level. With a 'oomph' he landed in the foam blocks.

"Are you okay?" Brienne asked.

Jaime didn't respond. He had more important things to do. He would've loved to be able to say that he stalked over to her with the feline grace of a lion or any other predator, but in reality, thanks to the foam blocks, it was probably more like a wobbling over like a drunk foal to where the blonde in a short princess dress stood. Dropping the swords, he grabbed her around the waist and before she could utter another word, pressed his lips to hers. There was a moment when Brienne clearly was taken by surprise, but soon enough her lips became pliant underneath his and she began to return the kiss. Seeing as it had enticed him all night, Jaime let his hands wander downwards a little to give her delectable rump a firm squeeze and used the opportunity of her resulting gasp to deepen the kiss. Brienne's hands came up to thread her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and Jaime couldn't help but smile against her lips when he heard her give a quiet, but definitely pleased sounding, sigh.

Except for the sounds still coming from above them, it was a pretty perfect moment and he was loathe to end it. Although interrupt was probably the better term for it, because Jaime had every intention to kiss her again and often. With his own sigh, one of regret over not continuing, he drew back. The spot they were standing in, on wobbly foam blocks no less, was dimly lit like the rest of the haunted mansion, but he could still see Brienne's eyes, wide and a little dazed. He reckoned he probably looked the same.

"You kissed me," she whispered, amazed.

"I did."

"Why?"

She sounded like it was an unbelievable concept for her, so Jaime decided to not quip, but go with the truth.

"Because I already wasted too much of this night not kissing you."

Brienne shook her head, looking down.

"Don't mock me. I'm not the kind of girl that makes men like you want to kiss her."

Putting one finger under her chin, he lifted her head so that she would see he was being serious.

"There are no men like me. And you are  _ *my* _ kind of girl."

She opened her mouth to respond but before she could utter the first word, a bang! from above interrupted them. Jaime's head snapped up to find that Ramsay was peering down on them.

"I'll get you, my pretty! And the girl too!" he screeched. Jaime looked back at Brienne.

"You said something about a way out of here?"

She nodded and pointed to their left. Grabbing her hand and the foam swords, Jaime hurried off in that direction. The corridor ended at a sturdy looking wooden door that he would be glad to have between them and Ramsay. Thankfully, it was unlocked and so they quickly slipped through. Jaime wondered what fresh hell would be waiting for them now. Maybe werewolves? Qyburnstein's laboratory? Aliens wanting to probe them? After neanderthals and creepy clowns, vampire caskets and the mirror maze, one thing was sure: Renly didn't do halloween half-assed.

Once they were through, he threw himself against the door, just in case the weirdo had decided to follow them, feeling around for the key. His hand slipped to the side and found the light switch instead which he immediately flicked on, bathing the room in soft light.

"Oh" Brienne breathed, surprised.

There was no laboratory. There were no aliens. There was no one in here but them. Them and a very comfortable looking king sized bed with blood red sheets.

_ Oh _ , indeed.


	13. Chapter 13

“That is probably the biggest bed I have ever seen.” Brienne cocked one eyebrow at the elephant in the room.

“I’ve seen bigger.” Jaime smiled. He took a running leap and fell onto the center of the beast and sprawled himself out. “COme here.”

Brienne couldn't stop herself from looking around as if there was another person in the room. “Jaime, seriously? Does that usually even work?”

“I wouldn't know..” He sat up on the bed with his back against the ornately opulent headboard. “I just thought we needed a break from all of the running, and dodging and clown miscreants.”

“Clown miscreants?” Brienne smiled and came to the side of the bed. Hesitantly but with resolve she poured herself into the spot left of him.

“And let’s not forget the Ginger Beast From Hell.” He smiled, scooting closer to her as she made herself comfortable. “And the kissing.”

“The kissing?” Brienne squeaked. “That was just, that was--”

He pulled his face “Just what? Amazing, hot, left me with less room in this borrowed costume?”

Brienne began to pick at the red velvet bedspread. Usually, when she was nervous she would find anything to do with her hands, anything that would alleviate heart pounding and sweating that typically followed the blush.

This, was different. “I just mean that we don't have to-” Her words were cut off by soft, warm but insistent lips.

He leaned further into her. “I got something you could do with those nervous hands, Brienne.” He let his own errant fingers beat against her shoulder. His other hand was making its way down across her torso. She squeaked into his kiss, fiery and pressed into her own skin.

Brienne caught his left hand and pulled away from him. Her own lips felt cold from the loss of contact. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked. His eyes, gods be damned his eyes were dark with...something. She suddenly couldn't breathe. Brienne felt the room closing in on her. She was both too close and too far away from Jaime. A man she had only met that day. “Jaime…”

He huffed and sat up, straightened his clothes. He even tugged the skirt of her dress down a little more. “I’m sorry. I thought you. I mean that kiss. And your eyes.” Jaime ran his hands through his hair. “I thought you were giving me signals. Guess I misread them.”

She hadn't been in this position much in her life. Fumblings in college and a few short affairs that left her more sad for what they weren’t She had never known that these things happening now, in this bed, with the most beautiful man she had even been close up to, were real. “Signals? Like for sex?”

“What?” He looked angry, affronted. “I realize you don't know me really, Brienne. But, i thought our little adventure would have at least given you a bit more assurance that there are no men like me.”

She laughed then. A sharp and crystal thing that flung from her throat of it's own volition. She continued to laugh even though the man next to her seemed offended. “Glad to see you find this all so amusing.”

She placed her hand on his arm, could feel his muscles flexing and shifting under her fingers. He was real, this was real. “No, Jaime. I’m sorry, but...shit look at me? Do you think I am in this sort of position often?”

He glared at her then. “Your legs go on for miles. WTA could plan an entire expressway on them.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked. Confused at his shift in conversation. To accentuate his point, Jaime ran his hand over her legs and smiled at the visible shiver his touch elicited. “Your freckles make me wonder at the mysteries of the stars in the universe.” He ran his hand over her knees. “I want to get to know each one personally and see if there are a few constellations we could all dream up together.”

“Jaime,” she breathed. Was it suddenly hot in here?

He took his hand from her legs, the sense memory still burned even after his hand had shifted to her face. “Your eyes.” he said. “Brienne, I am a verbose man, and even I can't find the right words to say about them.” He kissed her cheek and thumbed her eyelids. “I don't know what you see in know what you see in the mirror, but I know what I see, here, now.”

 

by Wackygoofball


	14. Chapter 14

Jaime pulled her to him and kissed her. Of course he didn’t think a few kisses should or would lead to sex. Not that he didn’t want her. _Gods, did he want her,_ but he wanted something lasting and something real. More than a quick roll in Renly’s ugly red sheets. What did she take him for? _If she kept kissing him like that,_ _she could take him for anything she wanted._

He rolled her on top of him, intoxicated by the feel of her. There was something so sweet and true about her kisses. Their lips were well-matched and their bodies fit together perfectly. He felt her fingers carding through his hair and one of her arms wrap around him. He bent one leg at the knee to shift her up just slightly and ran his hand up the back of her thigh, under the cheap satin of her costume and over the cotton covering her bottom. She gasped and he slipped his tongue between her parted lips. He felt her trembling atop him.

The polyester of his fake police pants was unforgiving.  _ And itchy. _ He almost regretted going commando, but Brienne was now straddling him and there were only two thin bits of fabric separating them. She ground down against him and he thought he was going to lose control.

And suddenly there was a crash at the door. Brienne rolled off of him and stuck her head under one of the red satin pillows. Jaime looked up to see Tyrion and a sexy septa standing in the doorway.

“Well fuck me running, big brother. The rumor at the party was that you’d taken off with your  _ girlfriend _ but I knew it couldn’t be true.” He approached the bed with his arm outstretched over the not-at-all hidden Brienne, hand in a fist, ready for a bro bump. “Way to prove me wrong.”

Jaime knocked his fist against Tyrion’s as Brienne peeked out from under the pillow. “Your brother?” she croaked.

Jaime adjusted himself and made the introductions while the septa stood in the doorway, smacking her gum.

“So, uh…should we find somewhere else?” Tyrion asked with his familiar leer.

Jaime rose from the bed and held his hand out to Brienne. She stood, face flaming, lips swollen, and adjusted the front of her dress. He linked his hand with hers. “No, the place is all yours. We’re going to get out of here.” As they reached the doorway, Jaime looked back at Tyrion now with lying on the bed with his head in the septa’s lap. “What’s the safest way out of here? We need to avoid the psycho clowns.”

Tyrion chuckled, “And we know how you love clowns.”

Jaime extended one finger. “Just tell me how avoid them.”

“Go right and then straight down the hall to the end. That will take you back to the party,” Tyrion said. “And erm, you might want to ah…” he continued, looking directly at Brienne’s butt.

Jaime glanced down to notice her dress was tucked into her underpants. He tugged it out with a snicker.

She covered her face and muttered, “Oh gods.”

She was so adorable. He had to get her out of here so he could get to know her without evil death clowns and strobe lights and vicious cave gingers trying to steal her.

“Come on, my pirate wench, let’s get out of here.”

And he pulled her out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Jaime wove between groups of drunken dancers and selfie-takers in the thick of the party, keeping tight hold of the wench’s hand. As amusing as this house of horrors had been, and occasionally petrifying, he really wanted to exit the madness, strap that wench into the passenger seat of his fabulous car, and peel out of the driveway at an unsafe speed.

Said wench with the pert sassy ass ran smack into his back as he was forced to stop. Because of Renly Baratheon. Fucking stag!

The idiot grinned at them, the two nubby horns on his head flashing headache-inducing strobe lights.

“Jaime Lannister!” Renly shouted, then glanced over Jaime’s shoulder. “And Brienne Tarth, too!”

Jaime scanned the idiot whose bare chest shone with a truckload of glitter and whose legs were covered in brown fur. “What are you meant to be?”

Renly’s perma-grin faltered only a smidge. “A satyr! A sexy, sexy satyr.”

“Half a goat?” Brienne sounded unimpressed.

Jaime hated goats.

“Half faun!” Renly wiggled his hips obscenely.

Jaime shuddered. “Thanks for the party, but we’re going to call it a night.” He tried to tug Brienne away, but Renly pouted.

“Before the midnight fun run? You can’t!”

Jaime had enough. He had not expected to meet such a fascinating, highly bangable wench at this nonsense of a party, but since he had, he was done. “We hate fun runs. I’m taking my half-naked princess away from you, and then I’m going to screw the living daylights out of her, and then I’m going to take her to breakfast at a very nice pancake house.”

“What?” Brienne nearly yelled.

“Seriously?” Renly’s brows disappeared into his hairline. “The two of you? Seriously?”

Jaime started to growl. He spun around to Brienne. “Do you not like pancakes?”

She was beet red and tense all over. Even her nipples, which seemed like they were screaming at him for attention. “I…I prefer crepes.”

“They have those at the pancake house.” He shrugged.

Renly tapped him on the shoulder, but Jaime ignored him as he stared at his wench.

Brienne turned ever redder, her free hand extending toward Renly and returning with a palm full of glittery candy. “Do the crepes come with chocolate?”

Jaime felt flooded with relief and also raging lust. “I’d make sure of it.”

“Good thing I’m always prepared!” Renly patted both their arms then swung a plastic pumpkin bucket in front of Jaime’s face. It was filled with condoms.

She wasn’t holding candy. Not candy! Red alert! His eyes went wide. He could feel them exploding out of his face. He squeezed her hand harder and dragged her away, so fast that the revelers were forced to jump out of his way. The room were too damn big! The halls were too damn long!

“Jaime,” Brienne said softly as her long legs allowed her to match his stride.

“Yeah?”

“Jaime, do you know where you’re going?”

“Nope!”

She used her impressive strength to force him to a halt. “We’re on the ground floor. Find a window.”

He grinned at her. Clever wench! He bit his lip and headed to the nearest door. Inside, there were no windows. None. Just rose-colored velvet everywhere, on the walls, the rug, the enormous circular sofa surrounding a table with a hookah on it.

“Renly has a smoking room?” Brienne muttered.

“Renly probably has a room just for his body glitter.” Jaime tried, he really tried to think of something else besides her legs. Or her eyes. Her nipples that still taunted him. He tried and failed and didn’t really care. “What do you think about changing the order of events?”

She didn’t pretend not to understand. Her blush looked even darker in the weird rose light. “That could work.”

He shut the door and snapped the lock, and then he claimed her luscious lips as he pressed his body against her. The polyester costumes itched like crazy. Rubbing the fabrics together made it even worse, so he supposed in his fogged brain that they were better off without them. He stepped back just long enough to peel off the fake policeman’s jumpsuit. He watched her pupils dilate, but he had to keep kissing her because of the lust problem.

She shrugged the ugly princess dress from her shoulders. He yanked it off entirely, letting it fall to the carpet, and he walked them back toward the stupid smoking sofa. He tripped on carpet fringe and fell on her against the velvet cushions. He would have asked if she were okay, but he heard her sigh and weave her fingers through his hair, and pretty much all coherent thought left entirely. She shoved a piece of candy at his chest. He tore it open and slid it on, and her big body was all around him and burning him like fire, and then he was finally with her. Oh gods, where did this amazing pirate-princess-wench come from? One of the seven heavens, he was sure.

He dragged his tongue down her neck to her milk-white breast and took that taunting nipple into his mouth. How did she taste so good? She bucked under him, and he thrust harder until she cried out. The sound of his name on her lips was too much to fight.

He shuddered and collapsed on top of her, and felt her arms wind around his overheated body. When he could find his voice, he whispered in her ear, “This wasn’t such a bad party after all.”

She shook her and laughed. “No, it wasn’t.”


	16. Epilogue

Jaime couldn't really believe that Renly's "Dragonstone Halloween party" had come around again. It was impossible that an entire year had passed! So what if he'd managed to squeeze five years' worth of sex into the one. So what if he'd developed a secret addiction to stupid costumes that could be half-ripped off during some of those sessions.

He still hated Renly's parties, and that would never change. If not for the persistent demands of Tyrion, Renly, and even Renly's boyfriend's sister (Jaime was still confused about how that smirky girl knew Brienne), they would never be at this party. Oh well, Jaime sighed to himself. Brienne was dressed as a sexy knight and he as a white horse. The headdress was ridiculous, but the getup allowed him to crouch on the ground so she would ride on his back.

Or that was the idea. She had refused to do it so far, but he had hopes!

He didn't let go of her hand as they made their way to the punch bowl.

"Jaime!" an enthusiastic and inebriated voice called out. Renly. Of course. "And Brienne! Guys, hey look! The Sex Kittens are here!"

Jaime knew Brienne would be flushed from head to toe, and he too hated the stupid nickname they'd been cursed with at the summer pool party.

"Renly, please," Brienne pleaded, but everyone knew it would be pointless. 

"What?" Renly winked. "The two of you are horndogs. Everyone knows it." 

Speaking of..."Renly, do you have that pit filled with foam this year?"

"Absolutely! Downstairs and three doors to the left."

Jaime tugged Brienne closer and wrapped one fur-covered hand around her waist. "And the hookah room is unlocked?"

"For you, of course." Renly grinned and swallowed more liquor.

"And the clowns? Are there clowns?" Jaime hated clowns worse than ever.

Renly glanced at the sticky floor. "There were some...issues, with the clowns. No more clowns." 

"Excellent. We'll be...in places. Doing things." Jaime began to pull Brienne away.

"You'll be in the foam pit banging!" Renly called after them. 

"Jaime! Really?" Brienne grumbled.

"Hookah room first." He shrugged and moved off down that long hallway, soon finding the right door and feeling sentimental as he scanned the room where he'd fucked his future wife for the first time.

He locked the door behind him and watched Brienne's blush form beneath her surprisingly sturdy sexy  chainmail. She thought he was going to seduce her. Well, he  _ was _ , but first...

He reached into the pocket of the white furry pants to find the little box. "Happy Halloween, Brienne."


End file.
